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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24805147">The Better Beginning</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackberry_jam/pseuds/blackberry_jam'>blackberry_jam</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>seven is an unlucky number [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Series of Unfortunate Events (TV), A Series of Unfortunate Events - Lemony Snicket</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Fresh Start, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Nightmares, after the end, happyish ending I guess, i guess it’s a form of ptsd, it won’t be written with complete accuracy though, its better than canon at least, so this is a sequel but you don’t really need to read the first one, tags will be updated as we go, they’ll probably be some angst later but we’ll see, you should though</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:14:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,532</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24805147</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackberry_jam/pseuds/blackberry_jam</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Baudelaire and Quagmire children have arrived back on the mainland, and even though Olaf is dead, they still face the challenges of everyday life.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Baudelaires &amp; Quagmires, Klaus Baudelaire/Duncan Quagmire, Quigley Quagmire &amp; Duncan Quagmire &amp; Isadora Quagmire, Violet Baudelaire &amp; Klaus Baudelaire &amp; Sunny Baudelaire, Violet Baudelaire/Quigley Quagmire</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>seven is an unlucky number [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1782994</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Briny Beach</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi! So, I’m back with the sequel. I’m not too happy with the chapter, but I thought I should get it started, so here’s a short one to get it started.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>
    <strong>Chapter One</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <strong>Briny Beach</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon when land came into sight.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey!” Quigley called, a smile growing on his face, standing at the bow of the boat. “Land!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Isadora gasped, dropping her hands from where she had been playing chopsticks with Sunny. “How far?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley frowned a little, glancing back at the roughly drawn map in his hands. “Maybe a kilometre, or two.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where do you think we’ll end up?” Klaus asked, rocking Beatrice a little.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hopefully somewhere warm.” Duncan said, fiddling with the pages of his commonplace book.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hear Winnipeg is nice.” Violet said, pulling on the tiller. “Which direction do we wanna go?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley paused, before turning back around and rummaging through the bags.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anyone know where the compass is?” He asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet exhaled sharply, slamming her hands down on the bench. “Quigley Quagmire, I swear to god, if you’ve lost it… I spent at least a week working on that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no.” Quigley said, searching through the bag. “I know I left it somewhere here… found it!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stood at the bow of the boat again, fiddling with the compass for a few moments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“North east.” He said, finally.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet nodded, yanking on the tiller as Duncan and Isadora pulled the oars out, placing them in the rollicks.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They continued on in silence, for a few moments, wrapped up in their own thoughts.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet, still sitting at the tiller, was worried about her family and friends. They were headed to a mainland, where they had narrowly escaped a lifetime of treachery and danger. She knew they couldn’t have lived out on the island forever, but she couldn’t help but feel as though she was leading them back into danger, no matter how many times she was told that ‘she doesn’t have to worry about us’ and ‘we can take care of ourselves’, she was still the oldest and would rather die than have anything happen to any of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora, rowing in time with her brother, was excited to be going back. The weather on the island was nice, and the scenery was beautiful but there was always something missing. Having grown up in the busy city, the quiet island, populated by only them, was rather lonely. She had never been very social, and hadn’t really integrated with anyone else, but she missed the background noise, the inspiration for her poetry. She loved the idea that whilst someone could be struggling with an internal battle, another could be having the time of their life just a few metres away. But nowadays, it was rather ironic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Duncan was heaving on his oar, dipping it in time with Isadora’s. Like his sister, he missed the familiar buzz of the city, especially in concern to his interests. It was hard to write newspaper articles on an island where the only people to write about would be the people to read them. Living in a treehouse, whilst exciting, could get a little tedious, especially due to the small amount of space. Although none of them liked to be too far apart, having a little personal space would be nice.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Klaus was still holding Beatrice, rocking her slightly whenever she stirred. Not that he would say it, but he was a little scared to be heading back to the very place they had experienced such misfortune. Sunny had suffered through so much, at such a young age, and he didn’t even want to think about that happening to Beatrice. No matter how many times he told himself that Olaf was dead, he could never be certain who had escaped the fire. Did Esme get out? What about Carmelita? There was no way to know, not yet, anyway.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sunny was sitting on one of the bags at the bottom of the boat. When they first left, she had been excited about the boat trip, but the hours turned into days and days turned into weeks and before she knew it, the once exciting boat ride had turned into a tedious trip. Most of the time, the sun shone down on them, and she was sunburnt and her head hurt, but when it rained, the wind howled and it got cold in the evenings. Hopefully when they got back home, they would get a nice place to stay, out of the weather with lots of things for her to cook with.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley, fiddling with Violet’s handmade compass, was feeling homesick for the mainland. He hadn’t really been able to let his guard down, since the fire, and he missed his life in the city with his siblings. He hadn’t been to visit the local library, or the small set of corner shops, or the park on the end of the block. He was looking forward to a new normal, with his newfound friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>As the boat drifted into the bay, the children gripped the edges of the boat so tightly their knuckles turned white.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Klaus chuckled, humourlessly. “It’s Briny Beach…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet sighed. “Where it all began.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But it’ll be different, this time.” Quigley said, reassuringly. “Olaf’s dead. It’s all over.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all nodded, empathetically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora and Duncan picked up the oars again, rowing the boat into the harbour.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’re we going to do with the boat?” Duncan asked, as the boat bumped up against the shore, and Violet jumped over the back of the boat, grabbing the rope and pulling the boat up as high as she could.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Violet grunted, yanking on the rope. “Some of you need to get out, because you are really heavy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, gee, thanks.” Quigley said, rolling his eyes as he picked up a bag and clambered onto the shore, the others close on his heels.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They dragged the boat along the shore, using the rope and tied it onto the small jetty. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can come back and get it later.” Klaus shrugged, passing Beatrice off to Duncan so he could readjust the bag on his shoulders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora took the bag out of Violet’s arms as Sunny lifted her arms, wanting to be lifted up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet obliged, grunting slightly as Sunny jumped onto her back, wrapping her arms around her neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re getting heavy, Sunny.” Violet smiled, softly. “You’ll have to walk soon.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” Sunny cried, burying her face in Violet’s shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet smiled gently, bouncing her slightly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Where do we go from here?” Isadora asked, holding Beatrice’s hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Whatever we do,” Quigley said, grabbing Violet’s hand. “we do it together.” </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Things start to look up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, so I’m not super happy with this one, but I thought I owed you guys an update, sooo...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The streets were mostly empty, only filled with the odd jogger, running before their shift at work, or people dressed professionally, hurrying to the trolley stops.</p><p>The trolley rumbled down the road, as the children stood, unwashed and sunburnt, on the sidewalk.</p><p>“What do we do?” Isadora asked, readjusting the bags on her shoulder.</p><p>“We could catch the trolly.” Klaus suggested, pointing across the street to where the trolley was just pulling into the stop.</p><p>They glanced at each other, quickly making a unanimous decision. They were going to catch the trolley.</p><p>They quickly stepped onto the street, checking for cars, before rushing across.</p><p>“All aboard!” The trolley driver cried, preparing to shift the trolley back into gear.</p><p>“Not yet!” Violet called, as they came up to the stop.</p><p>The trolley driver smiled at them, a little unsurely. “Are you kids okay?”</p><p>They glanced at each other, taking in their ripped, dirty clothing and sun-kissed faces.</p><p>They turned back to the trolley driver, nodding with tentative smiles on their faces.</p><p>“We’re child actors.” Isadora said, a convincing smile on her face. This excuse had worked before, maybe it could work again. “We’re in a theatre production of ‘Annie’, we play background orphans, and we didn’t change out of our costumes. We have to meet our parents before they head to work.”</p><p>The trolley driver nodded, pleased with the answer they gave him as they clambered aboard. </p><p>“Thank you, sir.” Duncan said, as he stepped past the driver.</p><p>He nodded, shifting the trolley into gear and pulling it out of the station.</p><p>“Background orphans?” Quigley scoffed, as they went to stand at the very back, away from prying eyes.</p><p>“Well it worked, didn't it?” Isadora said, rolling her eyes.</p><p>“Where are we going to go from here?” Duncan asked, nervously.</p><p>Violet turned her attention back to them from where she had been watching the city flash past.</p><p>“There used to be an abandoned motel, on the outskirts of town, remember, Klaus? Mum and dad took us past it once.” Violet said, a nostalgic look crossing her face. “If it’s still there, we might be able to find some shelter.”</p><p>“Are we going to have to get jobs?” Klaus asked, readjusting Beatrice in his arms.</p><p>Violet nodded. “If you wanna eat, then yeah.”</p><p>“What about our fortunes?” Quigley asked.</p><p>“Aren’t we still murderers?” Klaus said.</p><p>Isadora sighed. “I’m sure we can sort something out. We’re the Baudelaires and Quagmires.”</p><p>“The background orphans.” Quigley added, ducking away from Isadora’s punch.</p><p> </p><p>“This is our stop.” Violet declared, as the trolley stopped at the very last stop.</p><p>They all moved to pick up their bags, following Violet, Sunny still in her arms, off the trolley.</p><p>“I wish you all the luck for your future performances. I’m sure you’ll go far.” The trolley driver said, as they stepped on to the sidewalk.</p><p>“Thank you, sir.” Duncan said, again, as he stepped past him.</p><p>The trolley driver smiled at them, waving goodbye as he drove the trolley back through the city's streets.</p><p>“Aww.” Isadora said, as the rickety trolley drove off. “He seemed really nice.”</p><p>They all nodded in agreement, adjusting their bags and making sure they had everything and everyone.</p><p>“So, which way to the haunted hotel?” Isadora asked, crouching down to tie up Sunny’s shoe.</p><p>“It’s not haunted!” Klaus said, quickly, before rethinking. “Is it, Vi?”</p><p>Violet laughed slightly. “Not if you don’t believe in ghosts.”</p><p>Klaus looked a bit worried at that, tapping his sister's shoulder. “That’s not a definite answer.”</p><p>Violet only shrugged, lifting Sunny up to her back and starting to walk, Isadora at her side.</p><p>“Violet.” Klaus called from her behind her. “Violet. You didn’t answer.”</p><p>Violet and Isadora only burst out laughing, ignoring Klaus’ increasingly desperate cries.</p><p>Quigley hit Klaus lightly on the shoulder. “Ghosts only exist in books.”</p><p>“Well our entire life feels like a book series.” Klaus sighed.</p><p>“Yeah, but not a ghost story.” Quigley said, rolling his eyes.</p><p>“Although, that’d be cool.” Duncan added.</p><p>“What?” Klaus exclaimed, hitting Duncan’s arm, trying not to disturb Beatrice. “No, we’ve had enough scary stuff happen to us. We don’t need ghosts added to that.”</p><p>“Aww.” Quigley pouted. “You don’t want the ghost of Olaf following you around?”</p><p>Klaus froze, grabbing Duncan’s arm instinctively.</p><p>As soon as Quigley realised what he’d said, his face fell. “Oh, no, shit. I… I didn’t mean that.”</p><p>“I… it’s okay…” Duncan said, rubbing his arm nervously.</p><p>“No, no.” Quigley said. “Shit, it’s not, I’m sorry.”</p><p>Klaus shrugged, lightly. “Well, I wouldn’t want your ghost following me around, either.”</p><p>Obvious relief spread over Quigley’s face. “I promise not to haunt you in a bad way.”</p><p>“You can haunt people in a good way?” Duncan scoffed. </p><p>“Yeah.” Quigley said. “Like a nice ghost, so you just have a friend following you around.”</p><p>“That’s strangely sweet?” Klaus laughed.</p><p>Quigley shrugged, a slight smile on his face.</p><p>“You can nice-haunt me anytime, Quig.” Violet called over her shoulder, Isadora cackling beside her.</p><p>“Nice ghost!” Sunny cried, lifting her hands above her head and clapping.</p><p>“You know there’s not actually any ghosts, right, Sunny?” Isadora asked, looking up at the little girl on Violet’s shoulders.</p><p>Sunny pouted. “But I like ghosts.”</p><p>“Well, tell you what, Sunshine.” Violet said, smiling at the ground. “When we get there you can search for all the ghosts.”</p><p>“Yay!” Sunny cried, happily.</p><p>Her laugh was infectious and soon they all had smiles on their faces as they made their way down the street.</p><p> </p><p>“It’s not too shabby.” Isadora shrugged, as she looked over the old hotel.</p><p>From the outside, it didn’t look too bad. The walls were crumbling, slightly, and the once colourful paint had faded. The windows were cracked and dusty, the bronze finishing brassy and unpolished.</p><p>“For an abandoned hotel, I guess.” Duncan shrugged.</p><p>“It’s either this or jail.” Violet laughed, humourlessly.</p><p>“I’d say juvie.” Quigley said, pausing in mock thought. “We’re not old enough for jail… yet.”</p><p>“Well, that’s lovely and ominous.” Isadora said, clapping her hands together. “Okay, let’s break into a haunted hotel.”</p><p>“It’s not haunted!” Klaus cried, only to be met with giggles.</p><p>They all stepped forwards, Violet pulling her lock picks out of her pocket and placing Sunny on the ground.</p><p>She stuck the lock pick in the padlock, wiggling it around until she heard a click. Violet flicked the lock out off the latch, and kicked open the door. It swung open with a loud creak.</p><p>Violet went in first, kicking a pile of leaves out of the way of the door as she glanced around the foyer. The others quickly followed her, Quigley swinging Sunny to his hip, Beatrice still snug in Klaus’ arms.</p><p>“Well, it could use some work.” Duncan said, rather optimistically.</p><p>The foyer was dirty, with leaves littering the floor and a thick layer of dust on every surface. The carpet was grotty, with dirt ingrained into the fine thread and grime smeared over the hardwood floors. There was a winding staircase in the corner, leading to the second floor.</p><p>Isadora dug around behind the front desk. She swung her legs up, vaulting herself onto the counter, a key gripped in her hand. </p><p>“Might be useful.” She shrugged.</p><p>“Is there anything else back there?” Quigley asked, still holding a now wriggling Sunny. “Okay, Sunny, I’m putting you down.”</p><p>Sunny nodded, very seriously. </p><p>“Careful where you step, though.” Duncan warned, as he tested the bottom step.</p><p>“Why?” Sunny asked.</p><p>“So you don’t get tetanus.” Isadora said, pointing the key at Sunny.</p><p>“Won’t get me.” Sunny said, shaking her head. “I’ll get it.”</p><p>“Sunny, that’s not how tetanus works.” Klaus explained, a small smile on his face.</p><p>“I’ll add ‘get vaccinations’ to the list of stuff we need to do.” Violet said, smiling.</p><p>“They won’t get me, either.” Sunny said, seriously. “I’ll get them.”</p><p>“Okay, Sunny.” Quigley laughed, as she rushed up towards Duncan.</p><p>Sunny overtook him, rushing up the stairs as fast as she could.</p><p>“Careful!” Klaus warned, quickly passing Beatrice to Isadora, who happened to be closest as he rushed after his sister. “You might fall!”</p><p>They hurried after her, carefully testing all of the stairs as they made their way up. </p><p>Upstairs, wasn’t much better. The walls were still flaky, with dirt and grime on every surface. There were multiple rooms, each with a different amount of beds, still furnished and decorated, but dusty and dirty.</p><p>“Which one do we wanna sleep in?” Duncan asked.</p><p>There was an unspoken agreement that they’d all sleep in the same room.</p><p>Violet stuck her head into one of the rooms. “This one looks alright.”</p><p>So they set to work, cleaning up and dragging in other mattresses. </p><p>The first few days are spent cleaning, sweeping the dirty leaves out of the foyer or shaking the dirt off the bedcovers. They find paper, and pencils, which they quickly make use of, Isadora writing poems whilst Quigley draws things, mainly from their past. Violet fixes the plumbing and water tank, and they all take long showers. Duncan scours the newspaper everyday, and they manage to find odd jobs. Klaus takes Sunny to do the grocery shopping, and Sunny points out all of the foods they need. </p><p>And things start to look up.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Nightmares</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So, I’ve been looking forward to writing this chapter for a while, and I’m glad I got to do it! Just a quick warning, nightmares (as the title suggests) and death will be mentioned, so just be careful.</p><p>In other, slightly more important news, I have some important info about this story. So, it won’t be told as a story-story, ‘coz there won’t be much of a plot-plot, so it’ll just be a whole set of oneshots, hopefully in chronological order, but I’ll try to mention the ages of the characters, so don’t worry.</p><p>I have a few ideas, so buckle up!</p><p>Enjoy! (And if you do, consider leaving a comment?)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Violet never really slept through the night, none of them ever did, so when she woke up at 2am on a Saturday morning, she began her familiar routine. Glancing around the room, she checked that everyone was there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Klaus was curled up on the corner of one of the mattresses, Sunny pressed into his side. Isadora was sprawled in the middle, Duncan pushed to the side. A small cot was lying nearby, Beatrice sleeping peacefully inside. And Quigley— </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley wasn’t there.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She sat up, with a start, throwing back her blanket, and double checking. Klaus, Sunny, Isadora, Duncan, Beatrice, no Quigley. She stood up, quickly and quietly making her way out of the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m sure it’s fine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>she thought as she stepped along the quiet hallway, the old floorboards creaking under the weight of her bare feet, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he’s probably just getting a glass of water, or something. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>That was the rational part of her brain, and whilst the small part tried to reassure the rest, her irrational, panic frenzy, brain was having a field day.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s probably been kidnapped. Olaf’s not really dead. What happened to Esme after the fire? She could still be out there. Or Carmelita? It’s the submarine all over again, except this time he won’t get out. He’s going to die. What about the man with a beard and no hair, or the woman with hair and no beard? They could find you. He’s probably dead. And now they're going to get you, but first they’ll get Klaus, and Sunny and Isadora and Duncan and Beatrice, and you’ll have to watch as they kill them in front of you, and then they’ll all die too and, and, and, and—</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Her horrific thoughts were interrupted as she came around the corner and heard quiet sobbing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She paused, straining her ears. The bathroom.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She quickly made her way down the corridor, knocking on the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Quig.” She said, quietly. “You alright?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There wasn’t a response, only a quiet sniffling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Quig?” Violet repeated. There still wasn’t a response. “Okay, I’m coming in.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She pushed against the door, knowing it was weak from its years of no use, until it swung open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley was leaning up against the bathtub, his arms wrapped around his legs, his face red and blotchy.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet clicked the door behind her, sitting down beside him and wrapping an arm around his shoulder, pulling him into her side.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley didn’t respond, instead moved to sob into her shirt.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nightmare?” Violet asked, and Quigley nodded, shallowly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley pulled away, looking up at Violet and shaking. “Where’s Duncan?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“He’s in the room, he’s safe.” Violet said, reassuringly. “You're safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You didn’t think so, </span>
  </em>
  <span>her brain taunted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley shook his head, violently. “He got them, Vi.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no.” Violet said, her voice soft and calm. “No, no, he didn’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley nodded, looking around wildly, before trying to get to his feet. “Isadora. Where’s Isadora?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet reached out, grabbing his forearms and pulling him back down. “She’s fine too, they’re sleeping.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley shook his head as Violet wrapped him in a tight hug.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no.” He murmured. “We’re not here, this isn’t real.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It was a dream.” Violet said, calmly. “We’re safe here, he’s gone.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hypocrite, </span>
  </em>
  <span>her brain spat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley began to sob, harder, into Violet’s shirt. “No, no. It’s the submarine, we’re on the submarine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet tensed slightly, before forcing her muscles to relax. </span>
  <em>
    <span>No, you can’t spiral now, you gotta be helpful. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“No, we’re not. We’re home, we’re safe, you’re safe.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley continued to mutter under his breath, his face pressed into Violet’s arm as he cried. Violet kept her arms tightly around him, quietly murmuring comforting things into his ear. They sat that way for ages, leaning against the hard bathtub, the cold, cracked tiles pressed against their legs, still in thin pyjamas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After a while, Violet sits back a bit, turning towards the Quagmire boy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you want to talk about it?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley was silent for a little while, long enough for Violet to backtrack.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But, actually, it’s fine… we don’t have to if you don’t want to, only if you want to.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley nodded slowly. “I-It was, we were back on the submarine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span> Violet nodded, her face sad and sympathetic.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And, but, we didn’t… we didn’t get out…” Quigley continued. “He… he killed them, he killed them all, Klaus, Isadora, Duncan, Sunny,” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet flinched.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Except us,” Quigley continued, quietly. “And we… he, they…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He trailed off, as his hands began to shake again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet slid back across to him, wrapping in another hug. Quigley lay his head on her shoulder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, though.” She said, softly, her lips against the top of his head. “We got out, and we’re safe now. We’re home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley looked up at her, his voice quiet. “I love you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet smiled, softly. “I love you too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eventually, they drifted off into a fitful sleep, leaning up against the bathtub, their arms and legs entangled, as they waited for the morning.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Soon, the sun rose and the others must have noticed their absence, as soon there was a frantic knocking on the door.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Violet, Quigley, are you in here?” Isadora called, and they could hear a pattering of footsteps behind her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet looked towards the door. “Yeah, we’re here.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I come in?” Isadora asked, cautiously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet looked at Quigley, who nodded, slowly. “Yeah, all right.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The door creaked open, and Isadora stuck her head through the crack. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You guys all good?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley looked up at his sister, shrugging. “We will be.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet nodded her agreement. “Are the others up yet?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, Sunny’s starting breakfast.” Isadora said. “I think we’re having pancakes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“That sounds nice.” Violet smiled, standing up and offering Quigley her hand. Quigley took it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They headed downstairs, carefully on the rickety staircase, meeting their siblings in the rather large hotel kitchen. Violet had managed to fix up most of the appliances, so they could at least use the oven, the stove and depending on the weather or the moon cycle, the microwave. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’d all manage to find odd jobs, babysitting, tutoring, cleaning and newspaper delivery, respectively, but they were still on the lookout for more permanent options. They’d managed to save up enough for basic meals, clothing and other essentials, but they’d really prefer to be able to afford a little more. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Good morning!” Sunny chirped, cheerfully from her position at the stove, as Quigley and Isadora crossed the room to sit at the dining table, where Duncan and Klaus were both peering over the newspaper.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘Morning, Sunshine.” Violet smiled, fondly, crossing the room to mess up her younger sister's hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sunny shook her off, shaking the spoon with mixture dripping off it at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet smiled, softly, although there was a certain exhaustion behind it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As Violet sat down, the others couldn’t help but notice the dark bags under her and Quigley’s eyes, but they didn’t say anything.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Did you guys sleep okay?” Violet asked, holding back a yawn.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Duncan and Klaus nodded, before turning back to the newspaper. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There’s something here for you, Vi.” Klaus pointed out. “Mechanics workshop’s hiring.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ooh!” Violet said, her face lighting up. “I’ll head down today.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anything else?” Isadora asked, taking a sip from her coffee mug.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The post office.” Duncan said, glancing up at his sister. “I might go down with you, Vi.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Anything about, you know?” Isadora asked, but she sounded rather hopeless.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Since they’d arrived, each day they’d poured over the newspaper, searching for any information about jobs, their position as ‘murderers-arsonists-and just general troublemakers’ and, most importantly, anyone from their spotted past, that might just happen to be alive. They all knew who in particular that Isadora was enquiring about, but they didn’t say it. They didn’t know what had happened to Fiona.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Pancakes!” Sunny called, from her position at the stove, snapping all of them out of their thoughts. “They’re ready!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And as Isadora stood up to pick up the plate of pancakes and Duncan carried over mugs of tea, things seemed a little brighter.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>🤷🏼♀️</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hi again.</p><p> </p><p>Enjoy this not-very important (kind of pointless, definitely just a filler) slice of life chapter!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Malcolm and Indigo both managed to get the jobs they wanted. </p><p>After their breakfast, Violet and Duncan had gotten dressed and made their way into town. It was only a short walk, if you knew the shortcut, to the small set of shops, where the mechanics workshop and newsagents lay.</p><p>Refusing to seperate, for obvious reasons, they went to the mechanics first.</p><p>It was only when the manager asked for a name, that they realised that saying ‘Violet Baudelaire, and, if you’ve heard that name, don’t worry, because I didn’t actually murder all those people’, might be an issue. </p><p>So, upon the question Violet said the first name that popped into her head.</p><p>“Indigo.” </p><p>“Rightio, Indigo.” The manager said, chuckling at his rhyme as he scribbled her name onto a scrap of paper behind the desk. “Any experience with cars and the like?”</p><p>Violet began to rattle off a list of things she’d built over her life, before moving on to<br/>
the list of skills she had, before finishing on the list of tools she could use.</p><p>The manager nodded along as she spoke. “And, have you got a number I can call, to let you know when to start? We need employees desperately, so you’re hired.”</p><p>Violet quickly recited the hotel’s phone number, that she had learnt from the ads as she was a child, writing a mental note to fix the telephone line as soon as she got home.</p><p>The manager nodded again. “Expect a call in the next few days, so you know when to start.”</p><p>“Great, thanks.” Violet smiled, warmly, as they left the shop with a wave.</p><p>“That telephone does not work.” Duncan hissed, as they left.</p><p>Violet waved him off. “I can fix it.”</p><p>“How did you even know the number?”</p><p>Violet grinned, and began to sing, the catchy phone-number jingle.</p><p>A few seconds in, Duncan interrupted her. “Okay, great, thanks.”</p><p>Violet smirked back at him. “Alright, where’s this news agency?”</p><p>“It should be over there.” Duncan said, pointing towards a block of buildings. “Now, for a fake name, I’m thinking ‘Malcolm’.”</p><p>“Why?” Violet asked, thinking hard.</p><p>Duncan shrugged. “No reason.”</p><p>Violet squinted at him, before shrugging, as they reached the newsagency door.</p><p>“Hi.” Duncan said smiling up at the woman behind the counter. “I’m here about the job.”</p><p> </p><p>They arrived back home, about an hour later. After Violet dug the key out of her pocket and slotted it into the door, they headed inside.</p><p>They found the others, upstairs in the small bedroom, each doing their own things.</p><p>“Say hello to Indigo and Malcolm.” Duncan declared, dramatically, as they entered the room. “Mechanic and post office extraordinaires.”</p><p>They blinked back at Violet and Duncan, blankly.</p><p>“What?” Sunny said, tilting her head and squinting at them.</p><p>“Well, we couldn’t have used our actual names, could we?” Duncan said. “So, Indigo and Malcolm were born.”</p><p>It only took a moment, before Klaus started laughing.</p><p>“Malcom?” </p><p>Duncan flushed, a bright red.</p><p>“What is it?” Violet gasped. “I knew there was something.”</p><p>“Very clever.” Klaus grinned. “Very subtle.”</p><p>Duncan smiled.</p><p>“I don’t get it.” Isadora said, from where she was perched on the old couch.</p><p>“Macbeth.” Klaus explained. “King Duncan’s son, Malcolm.”</p><p>Violet gasped, knowingly.</p><p>Isadora snickered, quietly. “But, what about ‘Indigo’?”</p><p>“Okay, sorry,” Violet said, jokingly. “I was pressed for time, besides the manager liked it, what did he say, Duncan?”</p><p>“Rightio, Indigo.” Duncan answered.</p><p>“Exactly.” Violet grinned. “It practically got me the job.”</p><p>“And you know, all the cool mechanic work you can do?” Quigley suggested. </p><p>“Oh, yeah.” Violet grinned, flopping onto the mattress beside him. “That too.”</p><p>“We all need fake names.” Isadora said. “Then we can forge birth certificates, and stuff, so we can actually have lives.”</p><p>“I feel like a spy in a movie, or something.” Klaus said.</p><p>“So we need last names, too.” Violet added, nodding her head.</p><p>“Something common, and unsuspecting.” Duncan agreed.</p><p>“So, like, Smith?” Quigley said.</p><p>“Yeah, or Brown?” Klaus added.</p><p>“I vote Smith.” Violet said. “Indigo Brown sounds weird.”</p><p>“Okay, sure.” Isadora said. “The Smith siblings.”</p><p>“We don’t look anything alike.” Klaus said, squinting at her.</p><p>“Oh, I don’t know.” Isadora said. “If Violet grew out her fringe… and shrunk a bit?”</p><p>“Or you could just grow.” Violet suggested.</p><p>Isadora threw one of the moth eaten cushions at her. “I get what you mean, though. Maybe we could be the Brown’s and you can be the Smiths?” </p><p>They all nodded their agreement. “But what about Bea?”</p><p>“She can be Brown.” Duncan said. “It’s sounds better than Smith.”</p><p>“Nicholas?” Klaus said. “Nicholas Smith?”</p><p>“Why?” Sunny asked.</p><p>“Klaus is a German form of the Greek name, Nicholas.” Klaus explained. “And it’s not so different that I’ll forget it.”</p><p>“Smart.” Violet said.</p><p>“I was thinking Emily.” Isadora said. “Like, Emily Dickinson.” </p><p>“Lesbian poets think alike.” Quigley said.</p><p>Isadora threw the other cushion at him. “Do you have anything better, map boy?”</p><p>“Henry.” Quigley said. “After Henry Pelham.”</p><p>Isadora rolled her eyes. “How is that any better?”</p><p>Quigley stuck out his tongue.</p><p>“Oh, real mature.”</p><p>“What about Sunny?” Duncan asked, interrupted his siblings bickering. “Or Beatrice?” </p><p>“We don’t need to change Bea’s name.” Violet said. “No one knows about her, and It’ll just confuse her, anyway.”</p><p>“I can be Shady.” Sunny suggested.</p><p>“Shady’s not a name.” Klaus said, a faint smile growing on his face. </p><p>“But no one will ever know it’s me, ‘coz it’ll be opposite.” Sunny argued, stumbling over some of the harder constants.</p><p>“It’s a little obvious.” Duncan said, delicately.</p><p>“Snowy, then.” Sunny suggested.</p><p>“Maybe not.” Violet said.</p><p>“Fine then, cooking ingredients.” Sunny said. “Plain Flour.”</p><p>“Have you ever met anyone named Plain Flour?” Violet asked, struggling to keep a straight face.</p><p>“Banana.” Sunny tried.</p><p>“That is not a name.” Klaus said.</p><p>“Cinnamon?” Sunny cried, getting more and more upset.</p><p>“Not a name.”</p><p>“Ice cream?” Sunny was on the verge of a meltdown, a thing that happened rarely, which was odd, because at her age, toddlers are very tantrum prone.</p><p>“Still, not a name.”</p><p>“Chicken Schnitzel.”</p><p>“Sunny, these are getting more and more ridiculous.”</p><p>“Cornflour.”</p><p>“How about,” Violet interrupted, tactfully, before her younger sister could burst into tears. “Hannah?”</p><p>Sunny paused for a moment, thinking. “Okay.”</p><p>Violet sighed, in relief.</p><p>“Why Hannah?” Isadora asked.</p><p>“The cook from Little Women.” Violet said. </p><p>“I’m a good cook.” Sunny said, proudly.</p><p>“Yes, yes, you are.” Isadora said.</p><p>“We need to do grocery shopping.” Sunny said, suddenly.</p><p>Violet groaned, quietly. “You couldn’t have said anything when we went into town?”</p><p>“I don’t trust you with the shopping.” Sunny said, plainly. “I’ll go with Isadora.”</p><p>Violet feigned offence, clasping her hand to her chest and falling into Quigley’s side. Sunny only stuck out her tongue, much to the amusement of the others.</p><p>“If you’re going to town, make sure you wear your coats.” Klaus advised. “It’s supposed to rain this afternoon.”</p><p>Sunny groaned. “But my coat is ugly and scratchy.”</p><p>“Tell you what, Sunny.” Duncan said, seriously. “Soon as we can, we’ll get you a new coat.”</p><p>Sunny clapped her hands, happily.</p><p>They turned back to their tasks, Isadora opened up the book she was reading aloud to Sunny, Klaus glanced back down at the notebook in his lap and Quigley turned back to the sketch pad on the mattress in front of him.</p><p>Duncan settled beside Klaus, peering over his shoulder at what he was writing whilst Violet glanced at Quigley’s drawing.</p><p>“What’re you drawing?” Violet asked, looking at the soft pencil lines, imprinted on the white paper.</p><p>Quigley sighed. “It’s supposed to be Mount Fraught…”</p><p>Violet hummed, appreciatively, leaning over and nuzzling her cheek against his. “It’s lovely.”</p><p>“Very lovely ind—” Quigley began, flicking his eyes up to hers.</p><p>“Oh, get a room.” Sunny interrupted, with a groan.</p><p>Everyone laughed, as Violet and Quigley both flushed.</p><p>“Didn’t you have to fix the phone, Vi?” Duncan asked, raising his eyebrows at her.</p><p>“Oh, shit, yeah.” Violet said, standing up and wiping her palms on her secondhand overalls. </p><p>“And if Sunny says we need to shop, we’d better go do it.” Isadora sighed, resignedly, as she put the book down, walking across the room and scooping Sunny into her arms. “Don’t forget to feed Bea.” </p><p>Klaus rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to forget to feed the baby, Isadora.”</p><p>Isadora huffed in reply, as she picked up her and Sunny’s coats from the floor.</p><p>“Be careful!” Duncan called, over his shoulder as they exited the room.</p><p>Isadora shot him a hasty thumbs up, and Sunny mimicked her.</p><p> </p><p>Trips through town were generally uneventful, and this trip was no different. Sunny and Isadora walked briskly, through the chilly air, Sunny fidgeting and scratching at her coat the whole way. They made it to the shopping centre, and picked up a few of the items they needed. Only the essentials, always only the essentials. </p><p>They stuck to the rules, the Very Important Rules, which were written on a scrap piece of paper and blu-tacked to the wall back at the hotel. The Very Important Rules, as Sunny had so eloquently called them, went like this: rule number one, never talk to strangers, rule number two, don’t tell anyone your name, rule number three, never go alone. </p><p>They had always stuck to the rules, because the rules kept them safe, and keeping safe kept them alive. The rules were easy to follow, as they didn’t really meet anyone they had to talk to, or tell them their names, and they didn’t ever want to be separated, anyway. </p><p>They’d cut through the streets, quickly and unsuspiciously, heads down to avoid eye contact, until they reached their location, before quickly doing whatever they needed to do, then they’d go straight home.</p><p>So that’s what they did, every time. It was monotonous and tedious, but it got them through, kept them safe, kept them alive.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Upon letting themselves back into the house, they unpacked the food, before heading upstairs.</p><p>“Tomorrow,” Isadora declared, as they climbed the rickety staircase back to the small room, “we are going to get ourselves some forged papers.”</p><p>“And how would you know how to forge papers?” Quigley asked, squinting at his sister.</p><p>“I’ve read books.” Isadora said, lifting Sunny to the ground. “And we can go to the library.”</p><p>“I’m in.” Klaus said, quickly.</p><p>“Someone could literally kidnap you by bribing you with a library, Klaus.” Duncan sighed.</p><p>“Hey, Klaus.” Violet teased. “Wanna do drugs? We can do it at the library.”</p><p>Klaus groaned.</p><p>“Yeah, Klaus.” Quigley grinned, joining in. “I’ve been wanting to murder this dude for a while now, help me and we’ll go to the library afterwards.”</p><p>Klaus flushed, sticking his head in his hands.</p><p>“Klaus, I was planning a bank robbery and I need some help.” Duncan added, a smile growing in his face. “I was also planning to go to the library, afterwards, if you’re interested.”</p><p>“Yeah, sure.” Klaus groaned. “It’s rag out on Klaus day, everyone.”</p><p>“Oh, really?” Isadora said, smiling. “That’s odd, ‘coz I already had plans. I was going to stowaway on a plane, to Brazil, and I wanted you to come, Klaus, I was going to stop off at the library on the way there.”</p><p>“Haha.” Klaus said, sarcastically.</p><p>“I was going to the library.” Sunny added, not wanting to be left out. “Wanna come, Klaus?”</p><p>They all laughed.</p><p>“That’s not really how the game works, Sunny.” Violet grinned.</p><p>Sunny stared at her, blankly, for a moment before shrugging. “I’m going to make dinner, anyone wanna help?”</p><p>“I’ll come.” Duncan offered, putting away his commonplace book. “Also, Bea hasn't been outside all day, someone might want to take her for a walk.”</p><p>“You say that like she’s a dog.” Quigley said. “But I’ll go. Vi, wanna come?”</p><p>“Sure.” Violet said, already rummaging for her coat.</p><p> </p><p>They sat down, for what they liked to call family dinner, and ate Sunny’s freshly cooked omelettes.</p><p>Their chatter was plain and simple, mixed with giggles and shouts and the occasional theatrical movement, and it was nice.</p><p>It was home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Leave a comment?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Let’s go home.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a heads up, there’s been a bit of a time-skip, and the ages are as follows:<br/>Violet - 21<br/>Klaus - 19<br/>Sunny - 8<br/>Quagmire triplets - 20<br/>Beatrice - 6</p><p>Also, this chapters pretty short, but after the time skip, we’re making room for adult life!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The years pass quickly, living at the old hotel, and they manage to get by. Jobs make themselves available, and whilst working at the supermarket or tutoring the neighbourhood kids doesn’t make the best money, it’s something, and it’s enough.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re at the hotel when Violet, or Indigo, rather, is promoted at the mechanics workshop, and she starts to bring home parts, stolen in the front pocket of her oil stained overalls, to fiddle with at home. It becomes almost normal, to return home to the familiar tapping, squeaking and the occasional shout of a swear word, signifying Violet’s passion.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re at the hotel when Quigley finds work at the city records. It’s not a particularly interesting job, but his co-workers, all middle aged men and women, find Henry Smith charming, and so he’s never suspected when the death certificate of a certain Quigley Quagmire gets destroyed, and no one notices when he slips in seven more birth certificates, heralding the Smith and Brown families.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re at the hotel when Isadora gets her first poem published. It was just in the newspaper, and no matter how many times she’d said it wasn’t a big deal, they knew it was. So they cut it from the newspaper, and they hung it on the wall of their small bedroom, beside all of Quigley’s drawings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re at the hotel when Duncan gets an apprenticeship at the local newspaper. He loves it, and comes home with the stories about practically everything. He doesn’t tell them that this way he’ll also be able to tell if any potential danger is around, masking it under a flurry of excitement, but they can still tell. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re at the hotel when Klaus works up the courage to get his eyes checked again, after his glasses had gotten more and more useless. Upon confiding in Violet that it was getting harder and harder to see, she spent hours at the local library, after work, to try and find an optometrist that they can trust. When she finds one, she marches him down and refuses to leave his side throughout the entire examination. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re at the hotel when Sunny declares that she wants to go to cooking school, when she grows up. So they all set aside a bit of money each week, calling it the ‘Have A Nice Life Find’, and aim to raise enough for her to study a course, in the coming years.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’re at the hotel when Beatrice takes her first steps, crossing the kitchen to see what her sister, Sunny, is up to. They all laugh, wildly, as Sunny picks her up, and spins her around. And, when she says her first word, ‘Kla’ they had all smiled and Sunny had planned an extra special dinner as Klaus cried. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>And so, just after Violet’s 21st birthday, Duncan and Klaus, after walking to the shops, spotted an advertisement, taped the window of a shop, for a small apartment. They’d hurried back home, marching their siblings back to the shop window, so they could all see it for themselves.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It’s relatively cheap, which means it probably wasn’t in great condition, but it’s still something.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have to do it.” Isadora had said, her eyes sparkling.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They’d all nodded, lost in their own thoughts, dreaming of a place of their own. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So, they’d gone to see the real estate agent the very next day, and he took them to the apartment.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were so lucky. It was on the first floor, so they didn’t have to use the elevator and it has working locks, with working appliances, and the previous owners were selling it with the furniture. It had two bedrooms, a bathroom, a small kitchenette and an even smaller lounge room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The real estate agent raised an eyebrow, at the sight of them. “All seven of you, in this small apartment?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet only smiled, sweetly at him, pulling Sunny closer into her side. “Yes, sir.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The real estate agent smiled back, handing her a leaflet. “Well, call me if you come to a decision.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They glanced at each other, quickly, and nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ve come to a decision.” Isadora said, catching his attention again. “We’d like to buy it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The real estate agent seemed a little shocked, at the quick choice, but quickly recovered. “Oh, okay. Well, I’ll in that case, I’ll send through the invoice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We can pay now.” Klaus said, digging through his pockets for the wad of cash. “Is cash fine?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I suppose so.” The man said, shocked, as Klaus handed him a stack of creased notes, held together with an off cut of Violet’s ribbons. “Well, I guess this is all yours, now. Of course, we’ll have to sign papers and things, if you could come down later today?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great.” Duncan grinned. “Thanks.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They waved him off as he exited, still wondering how a bunch of children to young adults managed to get their hands on such a large bunch of cash.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As soon as he had shut the door, they turned to each other, happily screaming and shouting with excitement as they raced each other down the short hallway. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have separate bedrooms if we want!” Isadora shrieked, lifting, a now eight year old, Sunny up by her armpits and spinning her around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sunny cheered, throwing her arms up above her head. Beatrice ran up after her, raising her arms, in an effort to be lifted up, as well.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“So, we’ll need new beds.” Violet said, glancing around one of the bedrooms. “And probably a closet. A desk, maybe?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Violet, chill.” Klaus advised, grabbing his sister’s hands and spinning her around the mostly empty room. “You don’t need to worry about that, now, let’s just be happy!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet smiled, allowing him to pull her around, before pulling her hands away. “Seriously though, we need to plan. Do you reckon carrying a television through town is a bit suspicious?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Klaus laughed, as they left the room to go find the others. To go find their family.</span>
</p><p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p><p>
  <span>In the end, Duncan and Klaus went to sign the papers as, as Isadora had put it, they were “the only ones who can do legal stuff,” whilst the other traipsed back to the hotel, to collect up belongings and the appliances and pieces of furniture that were still in a good enough condition.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They spent hours, cleaning up all their things, </span>
  <strike>
    <span>double</span>
  </strike>
  <span> triple checking that they had everything they needed. Eventually, Klaus and Duncan returned and they helped to pack everything into bags, or carry them down the stairs.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They took time to carefully place the pieces of paper, drawings and newspaper clippings into their pockets. Once all the clothes had been collected, thrown in with the moth-eaten blankets and the chipped porcelain plates. They headed down the stairs, shifting the bags onto their shoulders and hefting the pieces of furniture into their arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sunny cried, when she had to leave the kitchen behind and they all were on the brink of tears as they cast a last glance over their home that had kept the safe for the past five years. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Their haunted hotel, their home. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bye bye, ghosties.” Sunny sniffles, even though she’s eight now, and much too old to believe in them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They cast one last look over the crumbling walls, before turning back to the street, arms laden with furniture and personal belongings.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Let’s go.” Violet says, smiling through her tears. “Let’s go home.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope you enjoyed!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Tomorrow</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, so apology time, I’ve been super slack, and you guys totally rule so, sorry for that, and here is a chapter that I really enjoyed writing, as my apology.</p><p>So, there’s mentions of drinking and drunk characters, so, if that triggers you, please be careful.</p><p>Enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The apartment was beginning to look like home. The walls were decorated with hand drawn pictures, pictures of Kit and Dewey, of Jacques, of their parents, of Olivia Caliban, and Justice Strauss, a scribbled sketch of Jerome, a coloured drawing of the view at Mount Fraught, the Hotel Denouement, an in depth map of the island and their little hut. They had a working television set, after Violet had spent a few long nights working on it, a small couch, which took Klaus and Duncan about an hour to manoeuvre it up the staircase, a large dining table, with mismatched seats. The small apartment only had two bedrooms, each with four beds or mattresses on the floor, and every night they had different sleeping arrangements, depending on how each person's day had been.</p><p>If someone had brought up anything about the submarine incident, they’d drag all the beds into one room, leaving Violet and Quigley to share one of the beds.</p><p>If Klaus had to visit the optometrist, he’d bunk in with Violet and Sunny.</p><p>If Isadora had had a particularly bad day, she’d sleep with Sunny and Beatrice.</p><p>There were a million combinations, and so they rotated every night, but on particularly bad ones, they’d drag everything down to the lounge room and all sleep together.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>They managed to keep their jobs, it was remarkable, really, that they could work at the same place for all those years, but maybe that’s why they could keep them, because they were reliable.</p><p>They had debated for a long while, out of Sunny and Beatrice’s earshots, about whether they’d send them to school, or not.</p><p>In the end, they’d decided they couldn’t really risk it, and besides, they had all been homeschooled, so they’d take turns, on their off days, staying home with Beatrice and Sunny.</p><p>The small apartment had turned into a home, and that was all they really needed.</p><p> </p><p>Normally, the Baudelaire-Quagmire household was bustling, with people walking back and forth, calling out to each other through the walls, and just generally pissing off the neighbours, but this afternoon, on a wintery Friday, the house was quiet.</p><p>Isadora was out, shopping with Sunny, who still claimed that she didn’t trust anyone else to go, and Klaus and Duncan had taken Beatrice to feed the ducks at the local pond.</p><p>Violet and Quigley were sitting in one of the bedrooms. Quigley was sitting in the only spinning chair they had, and Violet was sitting on the floor, the alarm clock in pieces around the floor around her.</p><p>The record player was playing softly in the background, and Violet hummed along to the tune as she worked.</p><p>Quigley was thumbing through a book, but his eyes were skipping over the words and he was flicking the pages much too quickly.</p><p>Violet stopped humming and squinted up at him. “Good book?”</p><p>“Mhmm?” Quigley said, looking up. “Oh, uh, yeah, I guess.”</p><p>Violet chuckled, quietly. “Yeah, nah, you’re not reading it.”</p><p>Quigley shrugged, turning back to the book. “Just thinking.”</p><p>Violet nodded, picking the screwdriver up and tossing it in her hand a few times. “Want to share?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah, okay, sure.” Quigley said, slowly and nervously. “Uh, so this is going to seem really random, and like, out of place, but, and only if you like, really want to, ‘cause I know that you have shitty history with this kind of stuff, so I won’t be that upset of you like, say no, but do you wanna, I don't know, maybe, wanna get married?”</p><p>Violet froze, and the screwdriver slipped through her fingers. She was silent just long enough for Quigley to backtrack.</p><p>“Aw, shit.” Quigley said. “I mean, sorry, it was probably stupid of me to ask, I mean, I know about, well, you know, and I still did it, shit, sorry…”</p><p>Violet recovered, quickly. “No, no, it’s not that I don’t what to, I do, I really do, it’s just, well, you know, my whole wedding shitshow flashbacks.”</p><p>“Wait, so you want to?” Quigley asked, as if he was surprised.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, of course.” Violet said, quickly. “Wait, you didn’t think I’d want to?”</p><p>“No, no, I guess I did, it’s just well, ‘wedding shitshow flashbacks’, and all, but that’s good, that’s really good!” Quigley grinned.</p><p>Violet smiled, widely, and got to her feet, squishing herself in the chair beside him. “What were you planning?”</p><p>“Nothing big, like, no white dress or tuxedos or anything like that, I thought we could just go down to like, townhall, or wherever and just sign the papers and then go do something fun.” Quigley explained, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.</p><p>“Like, get super drunk?” Violet asked, her eyes sparkling.</p><p>“Sure.” Quigley laughed. “We’ll wear our sweaters and get married and go get super drunk.”</p><p>Violet smiled. “Wanna do it now?”</p><p>Quigley smiled even wider. “Yes! Let’s do it now!”</p><p>Violet smiled, and grabbed his hands, pulling him to his feet. “Go get our best sweaters, and I’ll write a note for the others.”</p><p>Quigley nodded, and Violet raced out the room, barreling down the hall and grabbing the stack of post it notes they kept by the door. </p><p>Quigley came out of the bedroom, just as she picked up the pen. </p><p>“What should I write?” She asked.</p><p>“Just say, going to the pub, or something.” Quigley suggested, as he threw one of the sweaters at her and pulled his own on.</p><p>Violet nodded, and scribbled it down, before grabbing the sweater and pulling it over her head. </p><p>She grabbed his hand, and they hurried out of the apartment, down the staircase and along the streets, laughing as they ran through the wintery cold, their faces turning red and flushed.</p><p>The town hall wasn’t too far away, so they were there within ten minutes. It didn’t take long to get someone’s attention, and soon they were in a private office whilst the man behind the desk tapped on the keyboard in front of him.</p><p>“Sorry, did you say Henry Blythe?” The man asked, as his fingers danced over the keyboard. </p><p>“Henry Brown.” Quigley corrected, as Violet grinned beside him.</p><p>“And, is this your current place of residence?” The man asked, tapping a few keys before spinning the computer screen around to show them.</p><p>Quigley nodded.</p><p>“And, your name?” The man asked, looking at Violet.</p><p>“Indigo.” Violet smiled, slightly. “Indigo Smith.”</p><p>“Right.” The man said, and he swung the computer screen around again, and tapped furiously at the keys. “And you have the same place of residence?”</p><p>Violet nodded.</p><p>“Okay, fine.” The man said, as he tapped the keys once more and the printer beside him began to whir. “Just a moment, please.”</p><p>The printer continued to jerkily jut out the piece of paper, and the man eventually grabbed it, handing a pen to Quigley. </p><p>“And you’ve just got to sign here…” </p><p>Quigley signed, and then passed the pen over to Violet. </p><p>“And, you, here, thanks.”</p><p>Violet nodded, and hesitated for a moment, for placing the pen into her right hand and firmly signing her name.</p><p>“And, we’re done.” The man smiled at them both.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The nearby pub wasn’t too far away, but they walked slowly, hand in hand, along the frosty footpath.</p><p>The pub was already crowded, as it was a Friday night, but they managed to fit into a small booth, right at the very back.</p><p>“Sooo…” Violet smiled, her voice a little louder than usual. “Honeymoon or no honeymoon?”</p><p>Quigley paused for a moment, thinking hard. “No honeymoon. They’re probably overrated.”</p><p>Violet nodded her agreement. “We don’t have anywhere to go, anyway.”</p><p>“We could go to… Mount Fraught again?” Quigley suggested. “Or, no, wait, okay, so hear me out, but a road trip!”</p><p>Violet raised her eyebrows, sceptically.</p><p>“Like, we could hire a van and just drive, I mean Sunny and Bea would probably be a bit bored by it, but I bet you Isadora would totally love it, I mean, think of all the moody teen poetry she could write.” Quigley explained.</p><p>“I don’t think Sunny and Bea and Isadora would come on our honeymoon.” Violet grinned. “But, oh my god, we should do it, do a road trip.”</p><p>“See.” Quigley grinned. “It is a great idea, and we will propose it as soon as we get home.”</p><p>Violet cracked up.</p><p>“What’s funny?” Quigley blinked back at her.</p><p>“Propose.” Violet prompted, before collapsing into another fit of giggles. </p><p>“I don’t get it.” Quigley said, blankly, which just made Violet laugh harder.</p><p>“Like, propose.” Violet snorted. “‘Cause we’re married, now. And you proposed.”</p><p>Quigley squinted at her, before shaking his head and peering at the menu. “Do you wanna order something else?”</p><p>Violet took a deep breath. “What time is it?”</p><p>Quigley glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Like, just after nine.”</p><p>“Ooh.” Violet said, quickly. “Should we be home? We should be home.”</p><p>“We should be home.” Quigley realised. “Shit, okay, it’s dark, do you still wanna walk?”</p><p>Violet glanced out the window. “Not really. You go pay, and I’ll call home, ask if someone can come pick us up.”</p><p>Quigley nodded, grabbing his wallet and standing up.</p><p>Violet made her way over to the pay phone on the wall, and dug around in her pockets for a coin to insert into the machine. She eventually found one, and began to dial the number, as Quigley returned to stand next to her.</p><p>It rang a few times, and she thought there wasn’t going to be an answer, but eventually, there was a click and Isadora’s voice said, clearly. “Hello, this is Emily Brown.”</p><p>“Isadora!” Violet cried, happily. “Hey!”</p><p>“Violet?” Isadora hissed, into the receiver. “Where the hell are you? Is Quigley with you?”</p><p>“Mhmm, yeah.” Violet drawled. “We are at the pub, still.”</p><p>“What? Still?”</p><p>“Yeah.” Violet said, absentmindedly.</p><p>“Are you coming home, like sometime today?”</p><p>“Oh, yeah.” Violet said, suddenly. “That’s why I called, actually. My husband I require a lift.”</p><p>She began to laugh, and Quigley joined in.</p><p>“Did you say husband?” Isadora asked, quickly. “What the fuck?”</p><p>“Mhm.” Violet said, smiling softly. “Are you coming or not?”</p><p>“Wait, you did say husband?” Isadora asked.</p><p>“Yes, Isadora.” Violet sighed. “I already said that. This is a pay phone, so it’ll probably run out soon, so hurry up and get us, it’s cold.”</p><p>“Uh, okay, sure.” Isadora said, distractedly. “Yep, I’ll be there in like, five.”</p><p>“Great.” Violet grinned, blowing kisses into the speaker, before hanging it up on the handle.</p><p>“She’s coming.” Violet said, turning back to Quigley. “Wanna wait outside?”</p><p>Quigley nodded, and they stepped out from the loud pub. </p><p>They sat out on the curb, watching as a few cars drove past, their headlights on.</p><p>Violet watched, as Quigley picked up a scrappy receipt from the gutter and inspected it closely.</p><p>She leant her head back against the bus stop post. “I love you.”</p><p>Quigley smiled, brightly at her. “I love you, too.”</p><p>“No, but, like, I really love you.” Violet said, softly, leaning forwards.</p><p>“I like, really love you, too.” Quigley smiled, leaning forwards a little further.</p><p>“I think I like, love you a whole lot.” Violet said, closing the gap between their lips.</p><p>Quigley pulled away, just to say “I love you more,” before connecting their lips again.</p><p>A small, second hand silver car, pulled up to the curb, and the window rolled down. “Oi!” Isadora shouted, leaning out the window. “Are you getting in, or are you just going to sit there and make out?”</p><p>Violet and Quigley broke about, and started to laugh as they stood up and climbed into the back seat of the small car.</p><p>“So, what the actual fuck were you on about on the phone, Violet?” Isadora asked, undoing her seatbelt and turning around to look at them. “Are you like, ridiculously drunk, or…”</p><p>“Yes.” Violet said, before starting to laugh again.</p><p>“Yes to what?” Isadora asked, raising an eyebrow. “Yes to being ridiculously drunk, or yes to getting married?”</p><p>“Both.” Violet grinned.</p><p>“What?” Isadora shrieked, slamming her hands on the cup holder. “What the actual fuck?”</p><p>Quigley smiled at her.</p><p>“When? What?” Isadora grinned. “Oh my god, did you tell anyone?” </p><p>Violet paused for a moment. “Uh, we told that guy at the registry office.” </p><p>“Mm.” Quigley agreed. “And maybe the waiter?”</p><p>Violet nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”</p><p>“So, when?” Isadora asked. “This afternoon?”</p><p>Violet and Quigley both nodded.</p><p>“What? Why?” Isadora exclaimed. “Oh my god. I can’t believe you didn’t tell anyone, I mean, we could have had, like, a proper ceremony, or something.”</p><p>“I don’t do proper ceremonies.” Violet said, crossing her arms.</p><p>“Oh, right, yeah, of course.” Isadora said, quickly. “But, you could have said something?”</p><p>“Well, you were busy.” Quigley said. “And Duncan was, I don’t know, somewhere.”</p><p>“With his boyfriend.” Violet helpfully supplied. “That’s my brother.”</p><p>“Yeah, I did know that, thanks, Violet.” Isadora sighed. “But, so you’re actually, like, properly, officially married?”</p><p>Violet and Quigley both nodded.</p><p>“Oh, actually, Henry and Indigo are married, but, you know, same difference.” Quigley corrected.</p><p>“Oh, yeah.” Violet said. “Ooh, we didn’t discuss last names.”</p><p>“Quigley Baudelaire.” Quigley said. “Violet Quagmire. What sounds best?”</p><p>“What if we joined them?” Violet suggested. “Like, the barrel-y thing. Klaus would know the word for it.”</p><p>“Quigley Baudelaire-Quagmire?” Quigley tried. “Or Quigley Quagmire-Baudelaire?”</p><p>“Violet Baudelaire-Quagmire?” Violet continued. “Or, Violet Quagmire-Baudelaire?”</p><p>“Wait.” Isadora said, interrupting them. “Did one of you, like, propose? If so, when?”</p><p>Violet opened her mouth to answer, but there was a sudden knocking on the window. A man, dressed in an official looking uniform, was tapping on it.</p><p>Isadora sighed, and wound down the window. “Look, mate, we’re kind of in the middle of a really important conversation, my brother and best friend kind of maybe just got married—”</p><p>“Did just get married.” Quigley interjected.</p><p>“Yeah, and I kind of need to sort it out, so, unless this is important, can you move off, please?” Isadora finished.</p><p>“Uh, ma’am.” The man said. “I’m a police officer, and you can’t park here.”</p><p>Isadora turned scarlet. “Shit, sorry, right, I’ll move, we should probably go home, so, uh, thanks, shit, sorry.” </p><p>The police officer smiled, softly. “‘S’alright.” He leant into the window, and turned to Violet and Quigley in the backseat. “Congratulations.”</p><p>Violet and Quigley grinned at him, and Violet flashed him a thumbs up.</p><p>Isadora smiled, apologetically, before pulling the car out of park, and wheeling onto the street.</p><p> </p><p>They arrived home in a matter of minutes, and made their way into the main room, Violet and Quigley’s hands entwined.</p><p>Isadora hammered into the door, and when Klaus opened it, already in his pyjamas, she raced past him, slamming her bag onto the counter.</p><p>“What’s going on?” Duncan asked, from where he was sitting on the couch. “I thought you were going to be gone for longer. We only just got Sunny and Bea to sleep.”</p><p>“Guess where Violet and Quigley were.” Isadora said, vaulting herself onto the counter.</p><p>“I thought you said they were at the pub?” Klaus asked. “So, we’re they at the pub?” </p><p>“Well, yeah.” Isadora sighed. “But guess what they were doing?”</p><p>“Uh, drinking?” Duncan suggested. “Making out?”</p><p>“Jesus.” Violet sighed, falling onto the couch beside Duncan. “We’re not fifteen years old, I think we can move past saying ‘making out’.”</p><p>“Well, yeah.” Isadora said again. “And they also got married.”</p><p>“What?” Klaus and Duncan shrieked in unison.</p><p>“Shut up.” Violet said. “You’ll wake the babies.”</p><p>“Not babies!” A small voice from the doorway said. </p><p>“Oh, hey, Sunshine.” Violet said, her words slurred, slightly. “Aren’t you supposed to be sleeping?”</p><p>“Nah.” Sunny said. “Sleeping is super boring, and Bea didn’t want to sleep either, so we’re both awake.”</p><p>“That’s solid logic.” Quigley grinned, sitting down on Duncan’s other side.</p><p>Duncan groaned. “But Klaus and I read you like a million stories.” </p><p>“Still not sleepy.” Beatrice smiled.</p><p>“Okay, fine.” Violet said, patting her lap. “Come here, and we’ll all stay up all night.”</p><p>“Uh, no we won’t.” Klaus said. “Sunny and Bea are going to bed, and so are you and Quigley.”</p><p>Violet pouted. “You’re no fun.”</p><p>“And you’re super drunk.” Klaus retaliated.</p><p>Sunny gasped.</p><p>“Is that where Violet was?” She asked. “You said she was bowling, Isadora.”</p><p>Isadora laughed, awkwardly. “Bed sounds fun, let’s go!”</p><p>Sunny raised her eyebrows, in the way they knew that they hadn’t heard the last of it, but followed Isadora into the bedroom, Bea on her heels.</p><p>Klaus turned to his sister. “You two are going to bed, as well.”</p><p>“Why?” Quigley moaned.</p><p>“I already said why, and it’s probably landed me in deep shit, and Duncan and I only just started the movie, and I really want to finish it, so you know, get out of here. We’ll have this whole marriage conversation in the morning.” Klaus said, pointing to the door.</p><p>Violet rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath, but stood up, grabbing Quigley’s hands and hauling him up with her.</p><p>“I think we should do the barrel-y thing.” Quigley said, as they headed up the hallway. “We can ask Klaus what it’s called tomorrow.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Violet smiled, for the hundredth time that night, “tomorrow.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Leave a comment?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Frost covered pavement</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey, back again, with another chapter, so enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As they sat at the small dining table, the morning after, Sunny slid plates of bacon and eggs, cooked sunny-side up, to each of them.</p><p>“So, does someone want to explain to me what happened last night?” Klaus asked, pulling out a seat, coffee mug clasped in his hand.</p><p>“No.” Violet groaned, leaning her cheek on the heel of her hand, her dark sunglasses slipping down her nose. “Can we turn the lights off?”</p><p>Sunny glanced up at them. “They’re already dimmed all the way down.”</p><p>Violet groaned again, pushing the sunglasses further up the bridge of her nose and poking at her slice of bacon. “I’m never drinking again.”</p><p>Klaus shot her a look, before jerking his head towards Beatrice. </p><p>“Shit, sorry.” Violet said, apologetically. “Do we have any aspirin?”</p><p>Isadora stood up, with a sigh. “I’ll get you some, if you actually explain what happened.”</p><p>“Okay, fine.” Violet lifted her head up and looked at them all, and deadpanned, “I got married, yay!”</p><p>“Well, we got that bit, but like, officially?” Duncan asked.</p><p>“Yes, officially.” Violet sighed. “Why is this such a big deal?”</p><p>“Because you got married, Violet.” Klaus said, as if it was obvious. “And didn’t tell anyone.”</p><p>“Well, I’m 21, I can get married, if I want too.” Violet sighed. “So we did.”</p><p>Sunny pouted. “I wanted to throw flowers at your wedding.”</p><p>“You can throw flowers at Klaus’ wedding.” Violet promised.</p><p>“I’m not getting married.” Klaus said, quickly, before Sunny could get excited.</p><p>Isadora sighed. “I’ll get the aspirin.” </p><p>“Can you wake Quigley up, too?” Duncan asked. “I need to go and harass him.”</p><p>Isadora scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’m not dealing with tired and hungover Quigley as well. Tired and hungover Violet is bad enough.”</p><p>“I’m right here.” Violet said, laying her head on the table. </p><p>“What’s hungover mean?” Beatrice asked, taking a big bite of her toast slice. </p><p>Klaus started to cough, as if he’d choked on his breakfast, as Duncan glared at his sister.</p><p>Isadora started to laugh, as she left the room. “Have fun with that.”</p><p>“Why?” Beatrice asked, innocently. “What’s it mean?”</p><p>Violet subtly glanced at the clock. “It means, it’s Saturday morning and if you hurry, the cartoons might still be on.”</p><p>Beatrice’s eyes widened. “But we never get to watch TV in the mornings.”</p><p>“Special treat.” Violet said. “Take your breakfast, you can finish it in there.”</p><p>Beatrice cheered, picking up her plate with one hand and grabbing Sunny’s arm with the other, dragging her out of the room.</p><p>“Nice save.” Duncan said, once they were out of earshot. </p><p>Violet gave a slight shrug. “If she has nightmares, I’ll deal with it.”</p><p>“How selfless.” Klaus said, sarcastically. “A real martyr.”</p><p>Violet stuck out her tongue, her head still on the table.</p><p>“Very mature, as well.” Duncan teased.</p><p>“I thought you’d be on my side.” Violet complained.</p><p>Klaus scoffed. “Of course he’s on my side.”</p><p>“Yeah.” Duncan agreed, reaching across the table to pinch Klaus’ cheeks. “How could I not be?”</p><p>Klaus swatted his hands away, as Duncan cackled, loudly.</p><p>Violet winced slightly, but she had a smile on her face.</p><p>Isadora came back into the kitchen, a pack of aspirin in one hand and a glass of water in the other.</p><p>“Who let Sunny and Bea watch the tv?” She asked, as she placed them in front of Violet. “It is literally mind rotting rubbish.”</p><p>“Thanks.” Violet said, opening up the pack and popping a pill into her mouth, quickly chasing it with a swallow of water. “And, it was either the ‘mind rotting rubbish’ or explaining what a hangover was.”</p><p>“Aah.” Isadora nodded, sitting back down. “Okay, understandable.”</p><p>“Do we have any plans for today?” Violet asked.</p><p>Isadora squinted up at the calendar on the wall opposite. “The ice skating rink’s having its 50 years of opening celebration thing today. I think Bea wanted to go.”</p><p>“Does she still want to go?” Duncan asked. </p><p>“I don’t know.” Isadora said, collecting up Sunny’s forgotten plate and stacking it with her own. “Probably.”</p><p>“We should go.” Violet said, draining the last of her glass. “It’ll be fun.”</p><p>“What happened to your migraine?” Klaus asked.</p><p>“I’ll go lie down, now,” Violet said, pulling her chair back and standing up. “If you can get Sunny and Bea wrangled and ready, I should be feeling better, by then.”</p><p>They nodded, as she left the room, leaving her plate at the table.</p><p>Isadora sighed as she picked it up. “The plates don’t walk themselves to the dishwasher.”</p><p>“Thanks, mum.” Violet only called, in reply. “Oh, and someone wake Quigley up.”</p><p>“Wake him up yourself.” Isadora shouted back. “He’s your husband.”</p><p>Violet laughed, changing direction and ducking into the opposite room. “Okay, fine.”</p><p>Isadora only rolled her eyes, and crossed the room, stacking it in the dishwasher. </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>After about an hour, Klaus managed to persuade Sunny and Bea to turn off the television and go and get dressed, while Isadora and Duncan dug around for coats and boots and Violet and Quigley slept.</p><p>Eventually, they made it out of the house, dressed in their unmatching winter coats and thick winter pants, mismatched gloves and hats, Violet still in her dark sunglasses, their thick-soled boots crunching in the thin layer of frost on the cracked pavement. The sky was a hazy shade of grey, and light shadows fell around, looming off the buildings, covered in a thin layer of spray paint and scrawled tags.</p><p>“And, apparently they sell hot chocolate.” Beatrice was saying, tugging on the slightly-too-small glove on her hand. “For when you’ve finished the skating.”</p><p>“I bet I could make better hot chocolate.” Sunny said, scowling slightly. “Mine has cinnamon.”</p><p>“And marshmallows!” Beatrice added, happily.</p><p>“I’m sure you can get marshmallows at the ice skating shop.” Isadora said.</p><p>“But no cinnamon.” Sunny said, proudly. “Only mine has cinnamon.”</p><p>“Sunny the expert chef.” Violet said, fondly.</p><p>Sunny shrugged. “Not expert, I mean, I only use the recipes from the library books, oh, and I think of some, sometimes.”</p><p>Violet smiled, and leant over to muss up her hair. “Expert chef.” </p><p>Sunny slapped away her arms, whining. “Violet, no, Isadora braided it for me.”</p><p>“I didn’t know Isadora could braid.” Quigley said, raising an eyebrow.</p><p>“Why?” Isadora asked. “Want me to do yours?”</p><p>“Do you reckon it’s long enough?” Quigley asked. “If so, yes, do it tonight.”</p><p>Isadora rolled her eyes.</p><p>“I’m serious!” Quigley cried.</p><p>Isadora grinned. </p><p>“Is ice skating easy? It looks easy on the telly.” Beatrice asked, still pulling on her gloves, before waving them in Klaus’ face. “Do I have to wear these?”</p><p>“Yes.” Klaus said, in answer to her gloves question, and Beatrice pouted. “Sorry, but otherwise your fingers will freeze.”</p><p>“I’ve never been ice skating.” Sunny said. </p><p>“Neither have we.” Duncan said. </p><p>“Is it fun?” Beatrice asked.</p><p>“Probably.” Duncan shrugged. “If you like ice.”</p><p>“Ice is cool.” Beatrice shrugged, before starting to laugh. “No, wait, ice is cold.”</p><p>Sunny began to giggle as well, and she whispered something into the younger girl's ear, making her laugh harder.</p><p>It was nice.</p><p> </p><p>They paid for the entry, and for the hire of seven pairs of ice skates, and sat down on one of the benches along the side, pulling the laces tight.</p><p>Sunny, who had already yanked hers on, was walking up and down on the thin, foam mat laid down around the rink. “Look, I can walk in them.”</p><p>“It’s a little different to the actual ice, Sunny.” Klaus smiled, as he double-knotted Beatrice’s laces.</p><p>“Thanks, Klaus.” Beatrice stood up, wobbly on the thin blades, and staggered her way towards Sunny, reaching her and lifting her arms up in triumph. “Can we go on the ice, now?”</p><p>Isadora sighed, still fiddling with her laces, as Violet stood up, her voice matching Beatrice's enthusiasm. “Let’s go!”</p><p>Beatrice beamed, gripping the railing and making her way around to the entrance, carefully stepping onto the ice, her hands still tight around the railing. </p><p>She looked back at them, and smiled, widely. “Hurry up, slowcoaches!”</p><p>They hurried up.</p><p> </p><p>It took a long while to get used to it, hands tight around the railing, or clasped around each other's arms, trying to avoid the pain and the chill that came with toppling onto the ice.</p><p>Beatrice had gotten the hang of it, quickly, and was soon skating past them, away from the railing, still a little wobbly, but upright, a big smile on her face. Sunny chased after her, laughing even harder.</p><p>Duncan and Klaus had edged their way around the rink a few times, dragging themselves along the railing, before calling it quits and moving to sit on one of the benches, calling out as the others skated past them.</p><p>Isadora adapted quickly, and soon took to enjoying herself by racing up as fast as she could behind Violet and Quigley, before stopping abruptly and laughing as they shrieked and swung their arms around. Eventually, though, they got used to her stops and she started to skate right into them, knocking them onto the ice, breaking Violet’s sunglasses in one of the falls.</p><p>Violet used that as the perfect excuse to get herself off the ice, and moved to sit beside Duncan and Klaus, trying to reattach the broken arm, a smile on her face the whole time.</p><p> </p><p>They eventually managed to usher Beatrice off the ice, after many protests, and they sat down in the small cafe, clutching mugs of hot chocolate.</p><p>“I was the best-est skater, wasn’t I, Duncan?” Beatrice said, cheerfully, waving her spoon around. “Even better than Isadora.”</p><p>“Even better than Isadora.” Duncan said, seriously.</p><p>“Nicer than Isadora, too.” Quigley grumbled, rubbing his arm.</p><p>“Rest in peace, my sunglasses.” Violet said, solemnly.</p><p>“I thought you fixed them?” Klaus squinted at her.</p><p>Violet waved him off. “That’s beside the point.”</p><p>Sunny took a sip of her hot chocolate and rolled her eyes. “Told you mine was better.”</p><p>Isadora nodded, and lowered her voice, as if it was a secret. “Yours is much nicer.”</p><p>Sunny smiled, raising her arms above her head, triumphantly.</p><p>Beatrice smiled around at them all, sitting crammed into a booth.</p><p>“I love ice skating!”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Ooh, also I made an instagram account, and I probably won’t use it much, but come vibe with me, anyway, @black.berry_jam</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Family Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a short one, but it was fun to write, so 🤷🏼♀️</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“We’ll take it.” Quigley said, flicking through the notes in his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hold on.” Violet said, holding up a hand. “We need to discuss that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What is there to discuss, Violet?” Quigley asked, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s price, and overall value.” Violet scoffed. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have to buy it.” Quigley said, strongly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, it’s not worth it.” Violet said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s a valuable resource.” Quigley argued, staring her in the eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not that valuable!” Violet cried, angrily. “We’re not buying it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We have tons of money left.” Quigley cried, waving a wad of cash in her face. “We can afford it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Guys…” Isadora tried, only to be shouted over,</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No. We’re saving our money.” Violet snapped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley shook his head. “I want it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t.” Violet said, crossing her arms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, we’re buying it.” Quigley said, flicking through the money again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” Violet shouted, lunging for it and pulling out of his hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Guys…” Klaus began, again.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not now, Klaus.” Violet snapped. “This is an important discussion, and might decide the fate of our entire partnership.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You don’t care about this relationship?” Quigley asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If that’s what has to be done.” Violet shrugged.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, fine.” Quigley snapped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Will you two shut up?” Duncan hissed, looking up from his book. “You’ll wake up Sunny and Bea.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’ll take half each.” Violet said, completing ignoring him. “I want the blue set, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No!” Quigley cried. “Not fair, I paid for them too.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Jesus Christ.” Isadora groaned, hitting her head against the coffee table. “Are you buying Kings Cross Station or not?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” Violet said, as Quigley said, “yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora groaned again. “It’s just Monopoly.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re splitting up.” Violet said. “I don’t want to play teams anymore.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” Isadora said. “You agreed to it, and we’re not starting again now. Are you buying it or not?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet groaned, and passed over the money. “Fine.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley raised his arms above his head, cheering.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I hate you.” Violet said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Love you too, babe.” Quigley shot back, sticking out his tongue.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Duncan sighed, heavily, putting the bookmark back in his book. “Grow up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley turned over his shoulder and stuck his tongue out at his brother. “No.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, our turn, </span>
  <em>
    <span>finally.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Klaus sighed, grabbing the dice and tossing it across the table. Isadora picked up the small metallic hat, and moved it across the board, before crying out loudly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No! Klaus! Oh my god, that’s the last time you get to roll!” She shouted, slamming the figure back to the board.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet and Quigley laughed, loudly, as she picked it up and tossed it into the jail square.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Isadora.” Duncan hissed. “Shut up.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.” She winced, before grabbing the dice and throwing them at Violet, who was still laughing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“‘It’s just Monopoly.’” Violet mocked, ducking as the dice flew at her head.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora hissed at her, as Violet scrambled to pick up the dice, before rolling them over the board.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley pushed the dog piece around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Park lane!” He cried. “We’re buying it!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, okay.” Violet said. “Because it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>worth it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Kings Cross is </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>worth it.” Quigley mocked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Klaus sighed. “Can I have the dice?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet passed them over, and he rolled it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ha!” Violet cried. “50 bucks and you can get out.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He sighed, and passed it over, and she handed it to Duncan, who was diligently playing banker.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora wrestled the dice off him, with a cry of, “you’re not rolling again.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She rolled it, and moved the piece to chance, picking up a card and reading it aloud, with a long sigh.“Go straight to jail… do not pass go or collect 200–”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She was interrupted by Klaus, as he cried out and stuck his fingers underneath the board, upending it, pieces scattering everywhere.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They sat in silence, blinking for a few seconds, before all starting to laugh.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god, oh my god.” Violet said, through her laughter. “‘It’s just Monopoly’, I can't with this family, oh my god.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sore losers.” Quigley cackled. “You are such a sore loser!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We didn’t even lose.” Isadora laughed, leaning her head on Klaus’ shoulder. “Oh my god.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re never playing this game again.” Duncan said, trying not to laugh. “I’m actually going to throw it out, right now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But it’s your turn to play next week.” Violet pouted. “Then we won’t have to play teams.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I’m locking it up, and Klaus is never going to look at it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span><br/><br/>Klaus groaned. “Jail is so stupid. What the hell? We didn’t do anything.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Next time—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“There is not going to be a next time!”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One Month Later.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Duncan?” Beatrice asked, looking up from where she was rummaging through the cupboard. “Do you know where Monopoly went?”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>let me know?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Coffee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Back again.</p><p>I figured Isadora needed some happiness, so here.</p><p>I have plans for the next one, and I’m super excited for it, so enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Morning!” Beatrice cried, happily, as she entered the kitchen, still in her pyjamas.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, sleepy head.” Violet grinned, from where she was washing up at the sink. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice smiled back, glancing around the kitchen, before furrowing her brow. “Where’s Isadora?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“At the coffee shop.” Klaus supplied. “She left just before you got up, Vi.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“But she doesn’t drink coffee.” Duncan said, suspiciously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Klaus shrugged. “That’s just where she said she was going.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Duncan shook his head, and turned back to the notebook in front of him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Sunny?” Quigley said, sticking his head out of the pantry. “I think we need to do some more shopping.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sunny sighed and slid off the bar stool, grabbing a scrap piece of paper and a pen. “I’ll write a list.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You’re the best.” Quigley grinned.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I know.” Sunny muttered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can we go to the park, today?” Beatrice asked, as she grabbed two slices of bread and placed them in the toaster. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got my final assessment due on Wednesday.” Duncan grimaced. “So I need to work on that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that the big article one?” Quigley asked, and Duncan nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ve got to work this afternoon. So, you and Sunny need to do some school work this morning.” Violet sighed, and Bea pouted. “Klaus, aren’t you working today?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Klaus looked up at the clock and cried out, picking up the piece of slightly burnt toast on his plate and jumping to his feet. “Yes. Shit, uh, okay, see you later.” He raced out towards the front door, grabbing his bag from the couch and leaving the apartment, the others calling out various goodbyes over their shoulders.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The phone, sitting on the bench began to ring, and Quigley picked it up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hello, this is Henry Brown-Smith.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Uh, hi Quigley.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Isadora.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yep, do you think you could come and pick me up? I was going to walk, but it started to rain.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley glanced up at the clock. “Yeah, sure. I’ll be there in like, ten minutes?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Great, thanks.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He hung it up. “Isadora. She needs a lift, so I’ll go get her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Duncan nodded, distractedly, before scowling at his notebook and rummaging through a pile of notes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great.” Violet said, as she drained the last of the washing up water and wiped her hands on her pyjama pants and turned to Sunny and Beatrice. “Go get dressed, and we’ll start on your spelling words.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sunny and Bea pouted, but did as they were told, as Quigley picked up the keys and headed for the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Quigley pulled the car into the bus zone out the front of the coffee shop and rolled down the window, squinting into the glass shopfront.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He could see Isadora inside, sitting in one of the booths, staring forwards at the counter, a disposable cup in her hands.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She wasn’t looking, so he pressed his hand to the steering wheel, letting the horn blare out. That got her attention, and she snapped her head towards him and scowled, drawing a cutting motion against her throat. He winced apologetically, as she got up and made her way towards him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As she reached the doorway and rushed outside the dark ducking through the rain, he called out to her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get in loser, we’re going shopping.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora rolled her eyes and wrenched the door open, slipping into the seat and winding the window back up as she did up her buckle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aww, come on.” Quigley whined. “That was a good one.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora only smiled, softly, placing her still-full cup in the cup holder.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What were you drinking anyway?” Quigley asked, peering at it.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Coffee.” Isadora said, simply.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You hate coffee.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora shrugged. “Maybe I’ve changed my mind.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You haven’t drunk any of it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora shrugged again, and Quigley sighed, placing his hands back on the steering wheel and heading for home.</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>“Violet.” Beatrice said, flopping dramatically onto the table. “I’m bored.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Have you finished your words?” Violet asked, glancing over.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Finish them off, then you can have a break.” Violet sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine.” Beatrice groaned, pulling the list back towards her and scrawling her answers beside them. “Done.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet took the list and glanced over it, before glancing back at the girl who was practically bouncing on her chair. There was no way she’d be able to explain the problems now.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, you can have a quick break, and then we’ll go over them again, okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice nodded, happily, getting to her feet, and racing towards the door. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t go and harass Duncan!” Violet called, as an afterthought. “He’s really busy!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Can I go too?” Sunny asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” Violet sighed, getting to her feet and wiping her hands on her pants.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a knocking from the front door and Duncan called out to her, from the kitchen. “Can you get that, Vi?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sure.” Violet shouted back, moving towards and wrenching it open.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley and Isadora stood in the doorway, the coffee cup still gripped in her hand.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t you take keys?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, no?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet rolled her eyes and moved back, allowing them in.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is that coffee?” She asked, suspiciously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes.” Isadora sighed pressing it into her hands. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I thought you—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t drink coffee?” Isadora finished. “Yeah, I don’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“All right?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora nodded, and cut through the kitchen towards one of the bedrooms.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley shrugged after her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is she okay?” Violet asked, nervously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She seemed...antsy.” Quigley sighed. “I mean, the coffee thing is weird, but she also didn’t laugh at my Mean Girls reference.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet grimaced.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And it was a good one, too.” Quigley continued. “When I pulled up in the car, I was like—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Get in loser, we’re going shopping?” Violet finished, and he nodded. “I’ll go talk to her in a minute. Do you want to take over teaching duties?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Depends. How fidgety is Bea?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Like, 100%.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley groaned. </span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Isadora went to the coffee shop the next day. And the next. And the next. And the next. And the next.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, what’s really going on?” Violet asked, at the emergency family meeting she had called, once Isadora was out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all looked around blankly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Has anyone spoken to her?” Klaus asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I did.” Violet said. “But she didn't say anything and I didn’t want to pry.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Should we ask her?” Quigley asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She won’t tell us.” Duncan said. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley gasped sharply, his eyes glinting and he turned to Violet, pointing a finger at her. “Spy mission.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes!” Violet cheered. “Yes.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Klaus asked, adjusting his glasses. “No, don’t be creeps.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s for her own good.” Quigley said, seriously, and Violet nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Duncan paused. “Okay, fine. But if she sees you, Klaus and I had nothing to do with it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Fine by me.” Violet said, and Quigley nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Klaus groaned. “Idiots.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <span>Violet and Quigley had entered the coffee shop and slid into a booth where they hoped she wouldn’t be able to see them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What’s she doing?” Quigley asked, not wanting to turn around and draw attention to himself. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet peered over the top of her menu, and gasped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>She started to laugh, quietly. “Oh my god.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s flirting with the cute barista.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What!?” Quigley gasped, turning around. “Which one?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The blonde one.” Violet said. “Her hair is in a ponytail, look she’s talking to her.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora looked around over her shoulder, and Violet pulled him down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a set of footsteps, and Isadora appeared around the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What are you idiots doing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet and Quigley looked up from where they were crouched under the table. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ordering coffee?” Quigley tried, weakly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“From the floor?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yep.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora only sighed, sliding into the booth. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, what are you doing?” Violet cried, clambering to her feet. “Don’t sit with us, go talk to the barista.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What? No.” Isadora said, blushing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“No, no, go on.” Violet insisted, shooing her out of the booth. “Go, what’s her name?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Liz.” Isadora said meekly. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She’s looking at you.” Quigley said. “And now she’s looking away. I think she’s blushing. Now she’s making coffee—”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, great, thanks.” Isadora said, elbowing him. “Wait did you say she was blushing?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley nodded, vigorously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Go talk to her!” Violet insisted. “Tell we say hi.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“She doesn’t know you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t care.” Quigley said, pushing her forwards. “Go on.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Okay, fine.” Isadora said, slapping his hands away. “Is my hair okay?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yes, go!” Violet cried, and she did, moving forwards. “Good luck!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The girl, Liz, looked up at them and Violet waved, Quigley pushed her hand down. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be weird.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sorry.”</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Soup</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hey it’s been a while</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Being sick sucks.” Beatrice said, miserably, as she wrapped the thin blanket further around her shoulders, glancing over at Sunny who was seated on the couch beside her. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sunny nodded in agreement, pulling her end of the blanket tighter around her lap and scratching weakly at her other arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Klaus clucked lightly, “don’t scratch it Sunny, it’ll make it worse.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sunny only sighed, ignoring him and reaching behind her to scratch at her back. Isadora, tucked into the corner of the couch beside her and absorbed in a book, absentmindedly lifted a hand to grab at her wrist, pulling it back down and placing it on her lap. Sunny made a noise that somewhat represented a hiss and Isadora smiled apologetically.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley glanced over from his spot in the loveseat, “Is, I seem to remember that when we had chicken pox you were the one who scratched them the most.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora scoffed. “At least I didn’t bring them home.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley raised a finger to stop her. “Ah, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Duncan </span>
  </em>
  <span>brought home the chicken pox, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I </span>
  </em>
  <span>brought home the head lice.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m glad we’ve cleared that up.” Isadora said, raising her eyebrows and turning back to her book.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe that Sunny has never had them.” Duncan said, a bemused expression on his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Given that Violet had them twice,” Klaus said, with a grin. “It’s a damn miracle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet scoffed, from her place on the rug. “Okay, well, I actually only had them once. The second time was just poison ivy.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And the first time?” Isadora asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet smiled, proudly. “I brought it home from the park and then spread it to Klaus.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you supposed to be isolated, like away from other people when you have chicken pox?” Duncan asked, raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you think eight year old Violet, who told me that the sun went away at night because I annoyed it too much, was going to miss a chance to harass me?” Klaus scoffed. Violet sniggered.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And you believed her?” Quigley asked incredulously.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I was six years old!” Klaus defended. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I also told him that all the trees in our backyard hated him, because he was reading from their siblings' carcasses,” Violet continued, smiling fondly at the memory. “And then he wouldn’t read for about a week, until he went crying to dad and dad told him I was lying.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Eight year old you sounds like a riot.” Quigley grinned, poking at the back of Violet’s head with his socked foot. Violet looked up at him and grinned. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I am still a riot, thank you very much.” Violet scoffed, knocking his foot away as she turned to face him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, sure, in that 21 year old, married, mother to two kind of way.” Quigley teased, rolling his eyes.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Almost 22,” Violet corrected. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shared</span>
  </em>
  <span> mother to two, you are a mother of two as well, and, this is not a joke, I will divorce you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Not if I divorce you first.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You say you’ll divorce each other every second day,” Isadora said, with an eye roll. “It’s kind of lost its power as a threat.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice coughed, loudly and obviously forced. “We’re talking about me and me being sick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sick too.” Sunny offered, weakly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Right, sorry.” Klaus clapped his hands together and got to his feet. “Either of you want some soup?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me, please!” Beatrice said, a small smile on her face.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sunny was more suspicious of the question. She scrunched her nose and looked at her brother sceptically. “What flavour?... and who made it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Klaus sighed. “Whatever we have in the kitchen and me, I’m going to make it now.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sunny thought about it, as if it was a big decision before groaning. “Fine.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll have some, if it’s not too much trouble.” Isadora said.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Me too, please.” Quigley added.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet opened her mouth, and Klaus quickly spoke over her. “Okay, soup for everyone?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They all nodded. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’ll help.” Duncan offered, standing up from his place on the couch, and making his way towards the kitchen.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quigley made pouting lips and kissing sounds, which Beatrice quickly joined in on, until Klaus rolled his eyes and followed Duncan out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice sighed heavily, her minor source of entertainment gone, and turned towards Sunny, who had her head against Isadora’s side, scratching absentmindedly at her left arm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora had one hand in Sunny’s hair, brushing out the knots and tangles, as she kept her gaze down on the book in front of her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice glanced back across the room, where Violet had her head up, talking quietly with Quigley who was still sitting in the chair, looking down at her. She pulled the blanket off her shoulders and scrambled to the floor, getting down in her hands and knees to clamber over to them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Bea-Bea,” Violet grinned, ruffling a hand through her hair. “How are you feeling?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice pouted for a moment, pausing in thought. “Itchy. And tired.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Aww, do we need a nap?” Quigley pouted.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you need a nap?” Beatrice snapped back. “‘Cause I don’t.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s almost lunch time,” Violet said, placatingly. “After lunch we can see how we feel.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>After some internal debating, Beatrice agreed. “I’m bored now, though.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do you wanna… play a board game?” Quigley suggested.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice shook her head. “The only fun one we had was Monopoly and that’s gone missing.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet and Quigley shared a quick look.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right,” Violet said, smiling ever so slightly, “yeah, maybe I’ll ask Duncan about that later.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice nodded.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What did you want to do, then?” Quigley asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice shrugged. “I dunno. Sunny was being boring.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m not boring,” Sunny protested, her head still in Isadora’s lap. “I’m just sick.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m sick too, and not being boring,” Beatrice argued. “That’s just you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sunny sighed, and shut her eyes, as Isadora glanced up.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet, scrambling to change the mood of the room, offered the option of watching television.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice only sighed, dramatically, flopping onto her back and staring up at the ceiling. She crossed one arm over her chest and folded her left leg closer to her arm, leaning down to scratch at her ankle.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bea, what did we say about scratching?” Quigley asked.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Piss off.” Beatrice snapped, half-heartedly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“And where did you learn that?” Violet asked, raising an eyebrow at her.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You.” Beatrice sighed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora laughed.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>There was a clattering of a bowl against a tray and a set of footsteps, as Klaus and Duncan came back into the small living space, each carrying a tray with bowls of soup.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Is Sunny still awake?” Klaus asked, peering over the back of the couch.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora glanced down at her, and Sunny opened her eyes. “Yes. What kind of soup is it?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Uh, there’s some tomato, and potato, oh, and we cut up the last of the zucchini,” Duncan said, as he juggled the tray he was holding, passing a bowl and a small shiny spoon to Isadora. She took it with a thanks, as Sunny was passed a bowl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You have to sit up to eat it, okay?” Klaus said, handing Sunny a spoon. Sunny nodded, sitting up and placing the bowl on her lap.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You too, Bea-Bea,” Violet prompted, poking her in the side. “Gotta sit still.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice nodded, slowly sitting up and taking a bowl from Klaus as Duncan handed out the rest of them.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Sunny frowned at her bowl, stirring it with the spoon, before bringing a tiny sip up to her lips. She thought about it, for a moment, before: “oh, it’s actually not that bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <b>———</b>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Who wants to hear a fun story about last time we made a blanket fort?” Isadora asked, smugly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>(They were, all seven of them, sitting inside a blanket fort. Isadora and Violet had made it after lunch, in one of the bedrooms, pulling all the blankets out and laying them over the chairs from the dining room. The floor was covered with the mattresses from the beds, and they had thrown the duvets and pillows inside. It was oddly reminiscent of the last time they, minus Beatrice, had slept in one together.)</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice nodded, practically bouncing in her seat, as she scratched absentmindedly at her neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Violet groaned, “is this story where we…?” She trailed off as Isadora nodded fervently. “Yeah, okay.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Well, last time we made a blanket fort was about, five, six? years ago, and we were staying at a fancy hotel.” Isadora began, making sure to steer clear of the details she missed out, the details which were: after we killed a guy. “And in the middle of the night, we,” she paused to gesture to herself, Klaus and Duncan, “were woken up by a scream.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice gasped.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Unfortunately, it wasn’t ghosts. It was just Violet and Quigley being idiots,” Isadora continued as they both groaned, “Guess what they were doing, Bea-Bea?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“What?” Beatrice asked, very involved in the story.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Having a water fight.” Isadora answered, solemnly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice giggled. “Can we have a water fight?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Maybe in summer.” Klaus offered, and Beatrice clapped her hands together.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell me another story?” Beatrice asked, wiggling down under one if the blankets. “Please.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Isadora sighed. “Okay. One time, when we were all at school together…”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Beatrice sighed, contentedly and drifted off to sleep at the sound of Isadora’s voice.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>all right seriously, I owe you an apology. so: sorry for disappearing off the face of the earth and being a liar, because I seem to remember saying I had an idea for this chapter about 3 months ago.</p><p>but hey, i’m back now, and have an idea of where this story is going to go!</p><p>thank you for holding out on me, fingers crossed, the next chapter should be out soon!</p><p>thanks!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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